Title: The Pancake Tour of North America: New York
Rating: PG
Author: Heath07
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing...
Notes: I almost forgot about this series. I thought it was time for an little update. This is almost over the top, but was fun to write. lol
They call New York the city that never sleeps. Apparently that little nickle phrase did not refer to visitors because Ryan was out cold and showed no signs of waking anytime soon. Seth decided the logical thing would be to let him sleep so he wouldn't be cranky for when they went to see the brilliant Hugh Jackman in The Boy from Oz later that evening. He'd planned to sightsee a little...experience the culture...get to know the people... It had sounded like a good plan and in theory it would have worked out just like that. But reality was a different thing altogether. Three steps outside the hotel room and some hoodlum had pointed a knife at him and demanded all his money. He'd been mugged!
"All if it?" Ryan asked, still half asleep.
"All of it," Seth answered, eyes to the floor.
"Why would you take it all with you?"
"I don't know."Seth shrugged looking very much like a child being scolded.
Ryan sighed, sitting down at the bottom of the queen size bed.
Seth cleared his throat. "Okay, I have a plan but..."
"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to have to do something I don't want to?"
"It's not that bad. You've been naked before...you know, in the shower and stuff. So really, this should be no problem."
"Naked?!"
"Yeah, see there's this contest...amateur night over at this club."
"What kind of club?"
"Allamericanmale."
"All what?"
"All American Male."
"I don't get it."
"It's this place in Soho, it's a...strip club"
"Are you asking me to strip?"
"Not for me, just for a couple hundred undersexed women."
"No, no way!" Ryan jumped off the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Seth seized him before he could get the door closed. "Ryan, come on. What other choice do we have?"
"Seth," Ryan groaned, pressing his forehead against the wooden door.
"Would you rather call my Mom and Dad and have them wire us some money?"
"No."
"The grand prize is $5000."
Ryan perked up. "$5000?"
"Yeah," Seth answered, smirking. He knew he was just about to win the battle. "Just do a little dance, shake that great ass of yours and we'll be set for the rest of the trip."
"I don't dance," Ryan stated firmly. He pointed at Seth accusingly. "You're the one that likes to dance, why don't you do it?"
Seth put his arm around Ryan, pulled him against his bird-chest. "Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. For whatever reason the ladies seem to like you and with you up there doing your thang we'll be guaranteed to take all that cash, but if I get up there and shake my scrawny ass there may be a rebellion, it could get ugly."
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Seth."
"Please?" Seth could practically taste victory. Leaning over, he kissed Ryan slowly just to persuade him a little more. "Well?"
Ryan smiled despite himself. "You really think I have a great ass?"
"Tops. Superb. Best ass I've ever seen!"
"You owe me for this."
Ryan, decked out in a Pilot's uniform, paced nervously backstage.
"I look stupid."
"Would you have preferred the Police man's uniform?"
"No."
"Well, then, there you go. Relax, you look great."
He grabbed Seth's collar and pulled him close. "I can't do this."
Seth pried Ryan's hand off his shirt and smiled reassuringly. "Sure you can, you're just nervous."
Ryan pulled back the curtains. "Look at them out there. They're animals! They tore that last guy's clothes to shreds."
"Relax, he wasn't half as gorgeous as you. You'll do fine." Seth handed him a pair of Aviator sunglasses. "Here, put these on."
"I can't breathe."
"Relax."
Ryan continued to pace as a buff model-type wearing a cowboy hat and chaps exited the stage. "Were you just checking him out?"
Seth scoffed. "He's wearing chaps for God's sake, does that tell you anything? But hey, did you see the firefighter over there? I wonder if they rent these costumes out. Yellow is so your colour."
"Seth, you're so not helping."
"Sorry. Just think $5000," Seth encouraged, massaging Ryan's shoulders. "You look good, really really good. And see if you can stuff this outfit in your bag before we leave," he joked, patting Ryan's ass.
"This is so humiliating."
"I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"I'm holding you to that."
"And now All American Male is pleased to present our very own Top Gun. Give it up ladies for Ryan!"
Ryan swallowed hard, grabbed the edge of the curtain and made his stage debut. The music swelled in his ears and he was only vaguely aware that he was moving at all. The feel of crisp dollar bills being shoved into his pants was what woke him from his trance.
Seth watched Ryan work the stage, beaming proudly. It didn't seem to matter if Ryan had rhythm or not because once he got his shirt off the screams and catcalls were enough to deafen him. Not that Seth could blame all the women, he too had been a victim of Ryan's undeniable beauty. Ryan had this contest in the bag.
Ryan had $86 dollars in his underwear. Seth had pulled each dollar bill out one by one. That made their grand total $5086.00.
"Want to go for pancakes?" Seth asked putting the money inside one of the duffel bags. Digging around in the bag, he pulled out the Pilot uniform. Ryan was staring at him. "Dude! They let you keep this?"
Ryan shook his head.
"You stole it? That's so...hot."
"I've moved on from cars, costumes are my next venture into the world of thievery."
"You're a bad bad boy, Ryan Atwood," Seth teased.
Ryan smirked. "Remember how you said you'd make this whole thing up to me?"
"Y-yeah."
"I'm waiting," Ryan said, eyeing the uniform.
"Ryan, no," Seth backpedalled. "Rebellion, remember?"
"It's just you and me. I've seen you dance and I don't plan to rebel."
Seth tried one last weak protest but Ryan was already helping him remove his shirt. "But-"
Ryan silenced him with a kiss.